Playing Pretend
by ManeStella
Summary: Because how could he face the horrible reminder of how the Organization had changed who he was? Distorted his beliefs, his goals. And made him into something nasty and loathsome. And here was the one person he had probably hurt the most, not accidentally, but with precision.
1. Reset

**A/N:** Since the name of Demyx's somebody has yet to be confirmed I'll be using "Myde" for this fic. I want to keep the events as close to canon as possible, but I've lengthened the duration of time between the Organization being full and when the events of Castle Oblivion began.

While this fic focuses on Zexion and Demyx, it will concede with two other fics I'm working on that focus on AkuRoku and SoRiku.

I plan to update about every 1 to 2 weeks. Rated mature for later chapters.

And a BIG THANK YOU to my beta readers oceanfae and prettyprotagswag!

* * *

"Get the hell away from me!" Ienzo yelled, chunking an especially large volume of the Encyclopedia of Hearts (written by Ansem himself) at Lea's head. Lea dodged the tome, plastering himself to the side of the doorway, narrowly missing what would have been a knock out hit as it hurled through the space that had previously occupied his face, though another one hit him in the shoulder causing him to quickly backtrack into soft cream tones of the hallway.

"What the fuck Ienzo!" Lea called from the doorway as the scholar hefted another volume up in preparation.

"I finally recalled _who it was that killed me!_ "

A flat _oh_ came from the hallway.

"I was wondering when that would come back to you." Not all the memories returned at once.

Ienzo fumed, slamming the book down on the circular desk, rattling the vials and flasks there that emitted a soft blue glow. He was not usually prone to violent outbursts and so Ienzo was half angry with himself for making such a mess of the study he had finally brought to rights after regaining his whole form and finding the Radiant Garden castle in such utter distress and disarray. Being a protégé of Ansem, he had taken it upon himself to occupy the room, as Even preferred to work in the lab, and Dilan and Aeleus were helping with the heavy repair and maintenance. Although in the beginning there had been quite a hassle dealing with the Restoration Committee over rights to the castle and its facilities. Most of the members had been too young during the golden age of Radiant Garden and had little or no memory of the original inhabitants of the castle.

Tentatively, Axel stuck his head out again.

"Honestly you should be thanking me. If not for my…actions at Castle Oblivion you might still be Zexion." He ducked back into the hall as another book came flying his way.

"Okay okay! I'll make it up to you! Got it memorized? I've got a lead on it anyway…"

Ienzo paused in his outburst, wondering what in the worlds could Lea possibly have that would give Ienzo reason to forgive him. He had been just as loyal to the Organization as Axel during the events of Castle Oblivion, (more so, in fact, as he was one of the founding members) only to discover later that Axel himself had turned away in the end. Ienzo waited for the aggravating redhead to reappear but he never did, instead there was the fading sound of footsteps from beyond the doorway that soon settled into silence.

Lea was correct though, in part. Only once his nobody form had been destroyed could he return in completion. In addition, the question still existed weather the act of destroying a Nobody could be qualified as murder. And if it hadn't been Axel surely he would have perished by Sora's hand with the rest of Organization XIII.

In addition, at that time he was Axel, not Lea. As a Nobody, Zexion had been aware of the familial relationship between Axel and Saix, and so should have been more careful in his dealings with Axel and taken appropriate measures in the event of betrayal. The individual who was really deserving of such wrath was Saix.

Ienzo touched his hand to his chest in thought. Toiling over the completion of Kingdom Hearts had become less about regaining his heart and more true to the original intent of his delve into the study of hearts and nature of light and dark, and so he had attempted to cast his desires away, not recognizing, or perhaps denying what they were.

His desire. If that's what he could now call the relationship.

He would apologize to Lea later, or at the very least settle a sort of understanding on the vague definition of Nobody murder.

With a sigh and an exasperated look around the disaster he had created, Ienzo set to work returning the books to their proper places.

* * *

It was a little over week later when Aeleus found Ienzo in the library, informing him that Lea had returned to Radiant Garden and was awaiting the young man in the study.

After thanking Aeleus for the message, Ienzo reluctantly readied himself for the encounter, taking with him the report he had been reviewing from Evan's currently developing data collection on the master computer pertaining to 'The Door to Light' and was reading it as he walked into the study.

"Make this quick Lea, I must return to-" but as he looked up from the clipboard the sentence died in his throat and against his will, a flush filled his cheeks, mouth still open slightly as he found a blonde man with a messy mullet and a sloppy smile, bright sea green eyes gleaming happily as he sat on top of the desk. Careless tears in his jeans and a well-worn t-shirt inscribed with some sort of insignia, which he could only surmise was a band symbol.

The threat of a smile tugged at the edges of Ienzo's lips but as he realized the faces of the two men in the room were illuminated with joyful expectancy, so he utilized the long practiced art of smoothing over his features into a sleight frown of contempt.

"Take him back."

The two gaped at him, completely thrown by his reaction.

"Zex- er…Ienzo isn't it? Lea said that was your name now. I came to-!" the blonde man began but Zexion looked back down at his clipboard, glad to have an excuse to avoid eye contact, "Please remove your rear from my desk before I call in Aeleus to remove it for you."

Lea put his hands on his hips and looked at the stunned blond man and then at Ienzo and then at the floor, shaking his head.

Sliding off the desk and slinging across his back the guitar case that had been leaning against the table, the familiar stranger approached Ienzo.

"Hey I thought we could uh, catch up or something? I haven't seen you since…well I've never seen _you_ before, not the way you are now, you as Ienzo I mean, but the old you, since before you…" He paused and itched the bridge of his nose with a curled finger looking away from the small scholar and then returned his gaze. "I just wanted to see you again."

Ienzo finally gathered the courage to lift his eyes from the papers.

"Since I was betrayed and murdered."

Of course he was deflecting the conversation. For now he would leave be explaining the foggy specifics. He threw a cold look in Lea's direction, who smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head before suddenly finding a diagram on the wall of avid interest.

"Now if the both of you will take your leave, I _do_ have work that needs attending to." He turned with the intention of scurrying off to the library, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him dead.

He didn't shrug it off. Though he should have. Because he didn't want him here, not now when he had a heart again, when he was sure of the thing beating in his chest. This was something he was too perplexed by to delve into now, the absurdity of hearts. Ienzo was sure he'd never see the other man again, and had depended on it. It wasn't as though he hadn't calculated the possibility, unlikely as it was, he had just hoped it would never happen.

Because how could he face the horrible reminder of how the Organization had changed who he was? Distorted his beliefs, his goals. And made him into something nasty and loathsome. And here was the one person he had probably hurt the most, not accidentally, but with precision.

What frightened him the most though, was that he was no longer sure how much of Zexion had been Ienzo. If, as a Nobody he had possessed a heart after all, then there was no one to blame for it but himself as he was now.

Ienzo clutched the clipboard to his chest, as if to push his beating heart into subjugation. "Just go away, Demyx. Your presence is unnecessary here. "

He turned around to find a hand extended to him with a smile and beautiful eyes he did not deserve, eyes full of forgiveness, "It's Myde now. Nice to meetcha."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you found this enjoyable thus far, reviews are VERY appreciated!


	2. Heartbeat

Empty and quiet.

This was a strangely rare occasion considering the enormity of the castle. Someone was always shuffling or skulking about in the lounge or the hallways nearby. At this hour of the night, although night was a constant in the Dark City, everyone had cleared out.

His value as a researcher to the Organization meant he was usually only given low brunt missions, such as recon or early training for fresh recruits, which were few and far in between. Due to this he was usually granted the opportunity to absorb information late into the night.

Due to Vexen, he had vacated his usual place of solitude and quiet: the library. Whether it was incidental or otherwise, Vexen's presence was ever glued to Zexion's and at times, like tonight, it became exhausting. The academic now often complained about his detonating status within the organization as it gained new members, all unaware of his brilliance and ignorant to his status.

Depositing his selection of reading material on the coffee table Zexion settled into one of the large armchairs near the windowed side of the room. Since none of the other members were around he pulled his legs across one arm with his back against the other, fitting comfortably into the space between with a tome open against his thighs.

"Oh! Uh, hey! I didn't think anyone was in here."

With an internal sigh Zexion's gaze flickered up from his book, mid paragraph, to find one of the newest members, the Organization's number one slacker, walking towards him.

"Number Nine." He greeted the man, "I had the same notion. It was my desire to keep it that way."

Zexion said, now looking him full in the face with as much passive aggressive contempt as he could muster in his current reading position, which he was fully aware wasn't the least bit threatening.

Instead of being insulted by Zexion's insinuation that he wanted to be alone, Demyx pulled out a big sloppy grin.

"Y'know you look cute all squished up like that."

Zexion chose to ignore that comment.

"What business do you have in here so late at night?" He asked even though he really had no authority over Demyx's access to the lounge. It's not as though this was a restricted area.

"Just wanted to get some practice in." Demyx answered with a small shrug.

"And why were you unable to do that in your room?"

He wasn't especially especially close to anyone in the Organization, despite the ties from his past life, but Demyx didn't make the list of company he would prefer to keep. Considering he was noisy and his work ethic was abominable. It had taken his one and only mission with the ninth member to come to the conclusion.

Demyx grimaced, "Axel's room is next to mine."

Zexion merely raised his eyebrows expectantlly, waiting for the unpleasant explanation that would surely follow, in light of how chatty the bond man was.

"He kicked my door open while I was playing and said he would crisp my ass if I kept playing late at night." Demyx rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Kind of an overreaction if you ask me, but man does Axel like his" at this he raised his hands to make air quotes, "sleep."

Zexion's lip twitched in a ghost of a smirk but he quickly regained a neutral expression, hoping that Demyx hadn't caught it.

Which he did not. Because he was still rambling.

"So I guess it makes sense but it's not like I bitch at him when he's banging that scary scar faced guy." He made an 'X' motion with his finger between his eyes to indicate which scar faced guy, as there were multiple.

Zexion's eyes widened, surprised. Well that was new information. Something he would rather not have had a mental image of, but possibly something he could use at a later time.

Demyx chuckled, "Cuz man he's nasty."

Zexion sighed, externally this time to hide the beginnings of a smile on his lips, "I suppose if you play quietly you can stay."

Grinning, Demyx held out an arm to summon his sitar before plopping down on the couch opposite of Zexion.

"Thanks, I'll keep the tunes chill."

Shaking his head at the absurd colloquialisms, Zexion returned his attention to the book awaiting his attention, hoping he wouldn't regret the decision of allowing Demyx to remain within earshot.

Keeping to his word, a soft thrumming began to flit through the room, not too loud or too fast to be a distraction. At first it was just a randomization of notes but after a few chapters, Zexion noticed there was a definite melody drifting around.

It wasn't bad.

In fact, it reminded him of when he used to stay up late listening to classical records on the phonograph, turned low so as to not disturb anyone, while reading in the parlor of the Radiant Garden castle.

He had believed Demyx to only be capable of gratuitous noise with his instrument, but what he was playing now was…relaxing.

* * *

Covering his mouth with the knuckles of his gloved hand, Zexion came to the end of the last page of this third book, and decided it was past time he should be getting to bed. It was well into the early hours of the morning. He stood and stretched. Eyes shut, he was aware of the sudden lack of music, though not of Demyx's own eyes following the bends of his figure.

Demyx had looked away, pretending to tune his sitar when Zexion let his gaze slide over to the musician.

"I'm off to bed then. You should be as well if you don't want to oversleep for your mission tomorrow. If I recall it's a rather early one." Zexion always acquired a copy of the mission schedule from Saix the day before missions were assigned.

Sticking his tongue out at Zexion (a terribly childish act) Demyx let his sitar dissipate and stood, "Spoil sport."

Without replying, Zexion began gathering his books from the table, he had brought more than time had allowed to read. A constant dilemma of his.

"Um," Demyx scratched his face unconsciously, possibly, Zexion observed, a nervous habit from when he had a heart. "You need help with those?"

Zexion paused considering, and then, slowly he inclined his head in acceptance of the offer. Another surprise, via Demyx. Number Nine's willingness to assist in a task was an irregular, of not rare, occurrence.

* * *

Vexen had long since cleared out of the library by the time the unlikely pair arrived.

"You can set them on the desk, I'll put them in order tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay."

The walk to the library had been oddly quiet, another quality in Demyx that was alternative to his usual obnoxious demeanor.

"Oddly uncharacteristic of you." Zexion commented as they withdrew from the library.

Demyx put his hands out, palms up, questioningly, "What is?" He was, as Zexion had noticed, quite expressive in his use of body language.

"Your display of helpfulness."

"Why are you so surprised?"

"From all the data compiled on you thus far from your time in the Organization it's obvious that you're a slacker, underachiever, and procrastinator. You have a low mission success rate, a minimum mission gage completion, a high tardy rate, and you often are off topic at meetings and complain about matters of trivial consequence." Zexion deadpanned.

The other nodded, chin resting against his fist, the other arm folded under his elbow as he listened, then he pointed at Zexion, "But you still like me, right?"

" _What?_ " Zexion's composed shattered as he stared at the musician, "That's absurd, of course not!"

"Why?"

Obviously Demyx was damaged in the head as well as lazy.

"We don't have hearts, you imbecile."

Demyx grinned, as if he knew something Zexion did not. This was of course highly unlikely, nearly impossible unless it perhaps related to musical composition or instrument usage, which Zexion had at least a basic grasp on. "But you would like me if we did have hearts, right?"

Zexion scowled, mouth hard pressed into a line as he attempted to decipher what exactly the origin of the mental damage was and if it was a permanent infliction or if it could be alleviated.

Demyx looked at him expectantly.

Apparently it hadn't been a rhetorical question.

"I'm not sure. Maybe? The probability is low, I would have spend some time analyzing the factors." His answer should have been no, but for some ludicrous reason this was spilling out of his mouth instead.

"Okay, cool. Give me a heads up when you figure it out."

He refused to spend another brain cell more on the matter.

"I…alright." He nodded, "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight!" Demyx waved and began to walk off to his area of the housing sector, but then he turned.

"Oh wait!"

And he was walking up quickly, suddenly too close.

"I'm a good kisser, factor that."

Abruptly, he bent down to Zexion and pressed a kiss against his cheek, winked, and then he was running off again.

Zexion pressed light fingertips to his cheek where Demyx's lips had been, staring as if dazed at the darkened passage the man had disappeared into.

If he hadn't known better he would have thought his heart had skipped a beat when Demyx kissed him.

He knew better though.

Nobodies didn't have hearts.

Right?


	3. Warning Signs

"Excuse me?"

The mission schedule was rarely deviated from.

"It can't be helped, the Superior had need of Number Two. You were the only one available for the mission opening."

He would not look at the idiotic grin plastered across the face of his current teammate. No, he would nod, begrudgingly at the slashed face of solemnity with a slight sneer on the corner of his lip and the edge of his brow.

"Hey it's no big deal, I mean Xiggy is cool, but y'know I can flow with it."

Xiggy? Zexion hoped he hadn't adopted abbreviated nicknames for all of the Organization members.

Saix looked between them, "Right. It will be a simple recon mission, inspect the Twilight Town tunnel network. The location needs to be scouted and all findings reported back promptly."

* * *

Stepping out of the portal, Zexion surveyed the area for residents, seeing none, he signaled for Demyx to follow and the portal closed behind the two of them.

"Whew I was worried we were gonna get a tough one, but sight seeing I can do."

Zexion was none too pleased with the intolerable work ethic of his fellow organization member and turned on him, "The difficulty of the mission is not in direct correlation to its seriousness."

Demyx squinted, as if he were trying to take a closer look at the big words that bubbled up from Zexion's mouth, "Huh?"

"In layman terms, even if a mission is easy, it is still important."

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that the first time?"

Sighing, Zexion began to make his way towards the tunnel opening in the back alley, shadowed by red brick walls and piping. He checked the map location to confirm this was the entrance they were to take; he noted the 'UNDER CONSTRUCTION' and 'NO TRESSPASSING' signs posted there.

He paused just outside the ramp of the tunnel entrance, "Once you acquire a certain level of vocabulary, you tend to make use of it."

"You know who has a colorful vocabulary?" Demyx asked as they proceeded intot he tunnel.

He did not deign to answer. Already knowing those within the Organization's ranks who were counted among users of crass terminology. Though he stifled the quirk at the corner of his mouth where a chuckle threatened to manifest at Demyx's display of enthusiasm.

"Axel! Man when he's pissed he's got a mouth on him. And Xigbar too. I saw him get hit by a heartless once on a mission, he was between warps when it nicked him, and he said a whole string of stuff I've never even heard before. Like he's so good I didn't think he could even get hit, y'know? How did he get that scar anyway? And lose like his whole eye? I mean he pulls off a the whole sexy pirate thing, but it looks like it was something gnarly that got-."

Zexion threw him an incredulous look, "You actually believe Xigbar is attractive?"

Demyx shrugged, "In a rugged, dangerous kinda way, yeah. He's funny too."

Withholding the sudden need to retch, Zexion pulled out the map again to check their progress.

The head sized blob of shadow on the paper was the preemptive indicator of warm breath tickling the back of his neck and sending a thrilling sensation down his shoulders and down further to his stomach as Demyx leaned over him from behind to glean a peak at the map, "What's so important about this spot?"

Zexion shuffled out from behind Demyx to face him, "It-" his voice came out a bit husky and he cleared his throat, "It connects to each sector of the town and so can be utilized to bypass routes usually populated by citizens."

"Sooo we just look around these tunnels?"

"That's the gist of recon, yes."

"Man I was hoping to get a look at the town, oh well."

No longer could he resist an eye roll or a humored smirk.

Demyx tilted his head at the sight, "You look cuter when you smile."

Immediately he recomposed a stern expression, "P-please refreain from k making inappropriate comments on a mission."

Why did Demyx jostle him so?

"How do you see with half your face covered?" Demyx ignored the warning and reached out to run his fingers through Zexion's excessive bangs, which the scholar retreated from.

"Before becoming a Nobody my vision suffered from astigmatism in my right eye. The condition doesn't affect this form, but I've grown accustomed to it."

"Huh, that explains a lot."

In an attempt to avoid further questions, Zexion continued on ahead, Demyx following, but just as they turned the corner to the third sector, Heartless began to materialize.

Zexion withdrew a few cautious steps, summoning his Lexicon as the dark pools surrendered twitching shadows into the tunnel before them, yellow globes bobbling.

Glancing to his side, expecting to find Demyx at the ready, he instead witnessed his mission partner eyes widening, hands in front of him face a grimace of fear.

"Demyx, they're coming!"

"I know, I know!"

Hurriedly, he reached a hand out and with a spray of bubbles his sitar materialized; Zexion returned his attention to the approaching heartless in time to quickly backtrack from a near blow.

* * *

When the last of the gaggle was extinguished, Zexion let out a breath of exhaustion and let his tense muscles relax once all was clear.

Fighting was far from his forté.

"What was _that_ about?" Zexion demanded, rounding on his partner who shrugged sheepishly in reply.

"I don't uh…I don't like fighting."

Zexion clenched his fists, tight lipped.

"Well I don't like it either but if the mission requires it than it can't be helped!"

A kindling in the sea, Demyx's eyes crashed from surprise to unearthed glee, "You don't _like_ it?"

And then, the chagrin realization of what had come out of his mouth. He couldn't 'like' anything. Nobodies didn't have the heart to like or dislike.

With a roll of his eyes, arms crossed, Zexion huffed, "A trick of the memory."

But Demyx refused to let go of the infernal grin on his face.

Worse, he was taking a few steps closer, "So did you decide if you liked m-"

An approaching chatter drifted through the tunnels, a shout, laughter, and then running feat.

Zexion grabbed Demyx's arm and pulled him round to a darkened bend and into a corner between the third sector path and an upward ramp, pushing him against the wall and covering his mouth with a hand while he turned his head over a shoulder towards the noise, pressing them both into the shadow.

"Come on slow pokes!"

"Hayner, what if we get in trouble for being down here? It's still under construction."

"But we're so far in already!"

Feeling an arm around his waist, Zexion looked away from the direction of the babbling teenagers in the tunnel beyond and up to the surprisingly sly gleam in Demyx's now darkened eyes as the musician pulled him closer, hips to hips. A none too unpleasant dropping sensation in his stomach, the air seemed to grow thicker as he let his hand slide down from Demyx's mouth, fingers gliding over lips to neck to collar bone and grasped the front of his coat.

"Yeah maybe the whole ghost search should wait? It's kinda creepy down here when the all the lights aren't working."

"Man you guys are being lame!" A melodramatically loud sigh of exasperation. "Ok let's go. But if Seifer's gang gets the low down before us you guys owe me ice cream for a week!"

Once the sounds of good natured laughter and words that Zexion could no longer pay attention to faded off, the blond man leaned down so that his mouth was to Zexion's ear, "So d'you like me?"

The press of Demyx's thigh to his groin wasn't exactly disagreeable, nor was the way his words tickled Zexion's ear and sent a buzz down his limbs. Demyx was far from unattractive, and those deep-sea treasure eyes he found himself peeking at far too often of late.

"Perhaps," Zexion breathed, "I could pretend to."

"Wait, have you done this before?"

* * *

Immediately, he tensed up, unprepared for the question at hand, woefully aware that his inexperience would likely be a laughable topic to Demyx, and if anything set him on edge it was being ridiculed by lack of knowledgeable on a subject. Especially, experience wise it would have been expected that he'd performed coitus at some point by the time he'd lost his heart.

If he properly recalled, involvement in his work had always seemed more interesting to him than swapping germs and rolling in sweaty sheets. His work had always taken priority; it had been his life. Ironically, it had ended his life.

"No." the word terse and quiet, directed towards the wall instead of the grinning face no more than an arm's length away. Surely his face felt warm due to increased body heat from the physical proximity. A blush of embarrassment would be absurd for a Nobody.

"Ohhhh."

A languid motion and the slow buzz of his coat zipper filled the moonlit room and Zexion peeked out from his silver waterfall of hair to watch Demyx shrug a layer of black away to reveal smooth _toned_ biceps, triceps, pectorals, abdomen…

"Th-theoretically, of course I know how it goes."

A warm film settled over his skin as he watched the progression of Demyx's hand. It drifted from his knee, up his thigh, his own coat bunching to his waist where Demyx paused, fingers testing out the curve of his hip.

Zexion took a sharp intake of breath as deft un-gloved fingers danced around his groin, surprised by his own surge of arousal as it pulsed, thick and heavy in his veins.

"Yeah? There are books about that?"

He nodded, for once unable to give an exasperated explanation that _of course there are books about that_ but instead he was bunching up gloved fingers into a fist of stupid mullet hair and sinking into another one of those kisses that he had, in fact concluded Demyx was exemplary at.

The smell of Demyx was like salt tinged wind off the sea on a cool, cloudy afternoon, something fresh and foreign, something lulling. It was there, in the pull of his kisses, the way he lingered slightly, tongue on lips before delving back in, and Zexion found himself being drawn further in until he was astride the musician's lap, hair pulling, breathy and shameless, gliding his own tongue over Demyx's teeth as his coat was hurriedly pushed off his shoulders and tossed to a crumbled blob in the darkened room.

"Zex?"

In his state of foggy consciousness, Zexion was mildly aware that he should find the nickname offensive, but instead he allowed it, almost welcomed it, and took a shaky breath as he withdrew a few inches, a string of saliva at his lips that he wiped away with the leather of the gloves still encasing his hands to find Demyx smiling lazily at him, and then his hair being pushed from his face by sitar string calloused fingertips, and his cheeks cupped in palms as smooth and warm as pages of a well loved book.

"You're gorgeous y'know."

What had driven him to this tempestuous behavior? That kiss? Those thrumming fingers? On strings, those gentle melodies breaking up the once muffled night. He had begun to listen to them, in the lobby, in the hallways, the tune and pitch of Demyx's voice. His insatiable curiosity. His careless laughter over some scandalous joke of Xigbar's. And he would turn away when the seafoam gaze landed on him as they passed in hallways, pretending he hadn't looked at all.

Even now he turned away, hiding something akin to embarrassment in Demyx's palm, a shiver in his memories but he couldn't place anything close to this.

"Don't you ever shut up?"

Taking the attached wrist and encircling it with his own hand he kissed the skin there, open lips pressed to veins. He felt the blonde shudder and gasp at the small action, then fingers were on his lips and then past them and he was running his tongue between digits, a firm grip on his rear that made him groan.

When the sticky wet fingers withdrew from his lips Demyx replaced them with his own mouth.

He should have been disgusted by all the saliva, the syrupy nature of it, the protruding fingers that had no business fitting in such tight places, the deceivingly skilled tongue that made him quiver and writhe and become a carnal creature, desperate for more attention. He shouldn't feel anything as he held to Demyx, sweaty and huffing, hands still gloved, only later to be tugged off so he could run clean hands over cheekbone and chin and lips to press his now uncensored smile to, pretending it was only to quiet Demyx's soft snores.

Pretending there was no flutter in his chest at the easy smile that slid across kiss-swollen lips to inquire impossibility.

Demyx watched Zexion's eyes widen and then dull over, watched him toss the covers off and slink away, slip back into his pants, pluck his coat and shoes from the ground, and hair flung back over his face, disappear into a whirl and coil of shadow tendrils, leaving the question hanging in the stifling air between them to settle on the cold, moon illuminated floor.

 _Can you feel it?_


End file.
